A Walk on the Wild Side
by ShotDownSkyRail
Summary: As she squirmed to get away from him, he smiled. The predator in him had always appreciated prey that fought back. Let's take a walk on the wild side, kiddies. Rated M for themes and language.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho; I only own my OC(s) and my storyline! I'm sorry guys, I know I haven't updated The Undine in a while, but the plot bunnies have attacked me! I just could seem to shake this one. But don't worry; I have another chapter coming up for The Undine. I just had to get this out of my head and onto the web first. Thank you guys! Hope you enjoy.

P.S As a fair warning, this is exploring the darker side of Kurama's personality; **this is no walk in the park.** This has a possible trigger warning, please be aware and use your best judgment as to whether or not to proceed.

He supposed it was the way she smelled that first caught his attention. The smell of summer rain mixed with something decidedly earthy like fresh fallen leaves, underneath a soft subtle perfume of pomegranate and pink peonies, among other man-made smells, like the vanilla in her body wash or the citrus shampoo she seemed to favor. There was also something mixed in with her scent that made the predator in him smile and stir. This made her scent unique, enough to stand out to him on a crowded train car. She was pleasantly distracting, a break from his ordinary day. True to his nature as a fox, he curiously sought out the owner of the feminine scent. His keen sense of smell pinpointed her in no time, and he studied her discreetly.

She stood towards the back of the car, her back facing him. Standing at approximately 175 cm tall, she was much taller than the average Japanese woman. She was also a blonde, her hair falling in white blonde waves to her waist, shining in the late afternoon rays of sun. How odd. He sniffed in her direction again. No chemicals had been used on her hair to dye it that shade of blonde, she was a natural blonde. So, she definitely wasn't Japanese. American, maybe? The train hit a bump unexpectedly, and she was facing him, stumbling into a business man, apologizing in Japanese that was rather fluent, except for the accent that made her stumble over certain words. She bowed apologetically and smiled at the business man pleasantly, straight white teeth gleaming. She was what Youko would call average. To him, she was pretty in an exotic way. Her nose was straight, her lips a little on the thin side. Her eyes though were large, and a lovely shade of pale blue, another rarity in Japan. He watched as she grabbed the handle to signify that her stop was next. He reached out before he could stop himself, grabbing onto a handle as well. Three stops too soon.

He followed her, getting off the train at the same time as her, and shadowing her steps as she left the station. Her hips were wider than what he was used to, with a round bottom, while her top half was smaller, reminding him of a pear. Her height came from her legs, long and lean, currently in a pair of printed leggings that drew attention to them. It wasn't until he was within 10 yards of her that he realized why she smelled so very good to him. Up close, she had an undercurrent in her scent, barely noticeable, he suspected, unless you were right next to her. Even with heightened senses. She smelled of water and woods, and a small woodland creature he was currently having trouble identifying, strangely enough. He made the mistake of getting too close, and when she tossed a curtain of white blonde waves over her shoulder, he was hit full force in the face with her scent. The smell of prey that close to him, when he was caught unawares, and wanting, prompted his next actions. It was surprisingly easy for him to forget himself in that moment. He had already pulled her into a dingy alleyway and shoved her up against the brick wall before she knew what was happening. Those blue eyes had widened comically, lips parted to scream when he had trapped her between the wall and his body. Youko, who had previously only been watching from the back of their shared mind with mild interest, was now very much present in the forefront of their mind. Taking in the site of her, hair strewn about her shoulders and chest heaving up and down rapidly.

"_You've been up to no good Kurama; people might start to think I'm a bad influence on you." _

He was inclined to agree with the fox, but couldn't quite bring himself to care at this particular moment. She had raised her hands defensively, seeming to move in slow motion. Kurama knew that the fox would see this as a challenge and might want to toy with her; he had to put his metaphorical foot down.

"_Youko..."_ He trailed off warningly.

Youko had chuckled darkly and shoved Kurama's consciousness to the side.

"_Relax, kid. I won't do anything she won't like."_

Youko could always appreciate prey that fought back.

I had not been expecting this. At all. Squirming fervently, I tried shoving this man's unmovable body away from my person. My hands met the planes of his toned chest, desperately pushing, scratching and trying to force more space between our bodies. He pressed his nose flush against the base of my neck, inhaling deeply, following the column of my throat up to the bottom of my jaw line. He made a quiet noise that almost sounded like a whimper mixed with a growl, his left hand finding purchase in my long hair, tugging my head back harshly, exposing more of my tender and vulnerable neck to him. He bit me then, none-too-gently, on my right side, teeth scraping at me, not breaking the skin, but bringing blood rushing the top layer of my epidermis. Again he bit me, still not breaking skin, instead pressing rushed and heated kisses to the mark that I just knew was already starting to form, pulling it into his mouth, sucking harshly against the reddened skin, and running his tongue along the sensitive blotch of flesh. My sounds of distress were quickly covered with his other hand as he pressed himself more firmly against my front, my back digging into the brick wall that was supporting my body. He made quick work of exploring the flesh that was being presented to his eager mouth, switching back and forth between my right and left side. My fists struck out at him, connecting time and time again, but seemingly doing no damage.

He suddenly sunk his teeth into a spot just below my left ear, and my train of thought just stopped, my body going stock still and my eyes blurring a little. A sound that was utterly wanton and foreign to my ears ripped its way up my throat, passing the hand that was still covering my mouth, high pitched and keening, surprising the both of us. He paused his actions to pull back and look at me, and for the first time I got a really good look into his eyes, emerald green with stunning flecks of gold, hazy and more than a little unfocused.

A slow, dangerous smile (that would have been unbearably sexy under any other circumstances) spread across his face, and he dove back to that spot, attacking it with a new vigor, roughly raking his top teeth across it, then pulling it into his mouth to nibble and suck at it greedily, stealing another breathy cry from my lungs. Hands that had previously been pushing him away, now clutched at his jacket in fistfuls, before racing across his chest in a nervous flutter. Chuckling darkly, he moved from my neck to my jaw, nipping it playfully, travelling up to the corner of my mouth, kissing all the way around it, the tip of my nose, both my temples, my chin, everywhere except my lips. He pulled back again to gaze down at me, I suddenly felt breathless, and a little too aware of him. He seemed pleased with what he saw, a self-satisfied smirk taking up residence on his face. He gave me a predatory smile, and then his mouth was covering mine. His kiss was impatient and demanding, his mouth dominating mine.

Startled, I jerked my head back, but the hand in my hair at the base of my skull kept me planted firmly in place. He overwhelmed my senses, the only thing I could feel, his masculine solidness pressing into my feminine softness firmly. The only thing I could smell, he smelled like freshly turned soil, and the bark of trees in autumn, I could smell the soap he used, masculine and clean. The only thing I could hear was his heart, beating just as rapidly as my own. My eyes dropped closed of their own accord. And as he slipped his tongue into my mouth, the only thing I could taste was him, wild and unchecked. He bent me to his will with no problems; I would bend as long as he kept kissing me like I was the only woman on Earth. The hand that had been over my mouth, idly hovering under my chin after he'd started kissing me, slid down my side to wrap around my hips, pulling me further into his trap, and I was his willing victim. I felt a hardness pressing into the side of my thigh and my mind came crashing back into reality. I don't even fucking know this guy!

Flailing wildly, pounding my fists against him, I felt panic really setting in, like a cold weight settling in the pit of my stomach and spurring my limbs into panicked thrashing. Fight or flight instincts kicking in, I shoved hard, catching him off guard and allowing me the time to get some serious space between us, ending up on the other side of the alleyway, leaning upon the opposing wall and trying desperately to catch my breath.

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but you can't go around pinning women on alley walls trying to kiss them senseless. It's assault." My voice came out shaky and husky, taking all the venom packed in those words out of the picture entirely.

"I wasn't trying." His voice came across like chocolate for the ears, smooth, dark and oh so tempting.

"What?" Brows furrowing in confusion and wrapping my arms around my middle, I waited for his answer.

"I _was_ kissing you senseless, not trying to." He gave me a perverse grin causing color to flood into my already flushed face.

"_Fucking asshole_." Switching back to English, I flipped him a certain one finger salute.

"I certainly hope that is a serious offer, I accept." My jaw dropped before I could stop it.

"It wasn't, you asswipe. Keep yer freakin' hands to yourself." My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

"I was under the impression that you rather liked when I let my hands wander." He smirked impishly at me, long red hair framing his face. If he hadn't just dragged me into an alleyway and had his wicked way with me, I would have found him extremely attractive. Even though he kept his hair longer than I normally liked.

"Well, you were wrong. Stay the hell away from me, _you fuckin perv_." After tossing the jab in English at him; I turned and sprinted towards the opening of the alley he'd pulled me into. He didn't pursue me. Glancing back, I caught green eyes that held a hell of a lot more gold flecks than they had a minute ago. He licked his lips slowly, making sure I caught every motion. A shudder that wasn't unpleasant ran down my spine. He smiled.

Call me a coward, but I ran before I could be pulled back in.

A/N: Just for a visual, in the face I see the OC looking similar to the lovely Ms. Saoirse Ronan, just different body types. Peace out girl scouts!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho!

"Ivy Anne Grace MacAwley! This is your father, and if you're ignoring my voicemails, so help me-"

I sighed, deleting my father's voicemail (read: rant), and stepping inside my tiny apartment. I'd have to call him in a little bit to let him vent and bitch, but I just couldn't deal with it at this very minute. Not after my …interesting afternoon. I had (thankfully) made it home without any other alley-wall-makeout sessions, but it hadn't left my mind. It just…baffled me. I'd never seen the guy before, and he'd come out of nowhere. At first I had been terrified that he was going to rape me, but it seemed the stranger was just getting his kicks off of dominating my mouth. Kicking off my ankle booties at the front door, I ran a timid hand over my lips, before shaking my head violently. Locking the door behind me, I frowned. I had most certainly not enjoyed that. He'd practically mouth raped me. What made it even worse? I'd been putty in his (admittedly very capable) hands, when I should have been a kicking, screaming, biting hellcat.

_And that freakin' moan? How utterly disgusting of me. I need a shower._

Lazily, I trudged through my apartment, tossing clothes off as I went. My shirt ended somewhere on the couch, my leggings across the hallway. I stopped briefly at the hall closet to grab two towels, before locking myself in the bathroom. After stripping myself of my undergarments, I turned the shower up as hot as it could go, slumping up against the shower wall under the spray of water and just kind of…resting there for a couple of minutes.

_Like, honestly, what the hell? Doesn't Japan have one the lower rape percentages in the world?_

Robotically, I went through the motions of cleaning my body, face and hair on automatic. I moped in the shower for another few minutes before reluctantly dragging myself out of the small enclosed space, wrapping my body and hair in my towels. Padding further down the hall, I closed my bedroom door before drying my body off and shrugging into some comfy yoga pants and a ratty, oversized University of Alabama sweatshirt then stuffing my feet into fluffy slippers. Picking up the phone, I dialed my dad's home number, pulling out my text books while waiting on him to answer his phone. My father is one of the world's worst worry warts. This really isn't good for his health, considering 3 of his 4 daughters are currently residing outside of the United States. Dad still lives in my childhood home in Birmingham, Alabama, as I suspect he will for his entire life. It's pretty much one of the only things he has left that my mother was an active part of. Let me explain.

I am the daughter of Cabhan and Daisy MacAwley, an Irish-English couple who immigrated to the United States separately, then ended up finding each other and marrying, only to settle in the South. Talk about a culture shock for the both of them. I am the second youngest of my parents' four daughters. I am currently studying abroad in Japan for a couple of years while working to earn my Doctorates in the Science of Medicine, specializing in Orthopedic Surgery. I started my college career at the University of Alabama, before deciding to study abroad at Keio University.

My oldest sister, Rose, is 27 and living just outside of Atlanta, Georgia with her new husband, Henry O'Fallon. Rose is _that_ girl, the one you wanted to be in high school. Tall, blonde and beautiful, we always thought that Rose would go into modeling or something of the like, but she surprised us all when she decided against going to college, and instructed ballet at our local dance studio for several years before she met my brother-in-law. Rose and Henry are currently enjoying the blissful honeymoon stage of their marriage and are thinking of purchasing a starter home. Rose lives lavishly as a homemaker for her lawyer husband, and our entire family is expecting them to announce a pregnancy within the next 6 months.

My second oldest sister Lily, she's 24, does humanitarian hospital work as a nurse in Kenya, where she met her fiancé, Kyle Burk, a strapping young doctor. Lily takes after Dad in the looks department with mousy brown hair and stormy blue eyes. Lily says that meeting Kyle happened just like it does in the movies. Kyle saw Lily across a crowded infirmary and knew that he was going to marry her. They ended up dating for 3 months before he popped the question. They've been engaged for 2 years now, but are planning to finally get married in the fall of next year. While they don't get to visit very often, they both find their work extremely fulfilling, and we try to video chat as often as we can.

My younger sister is my twin, my other half, and my best friend in the entire world. The stuff you hear about twins having an unbreakable bond really is true. Fern just…understands me better than anyone in the world. Fern is the peanut to my butter, the knick to my knack, the cookie to my milk. We only ever needed each other as children. Even to this day, whenever I have an off day, all I need to do is phone Fern and talk to her for a little bit, to help calm my nerves. Fern is studying psychology at the University of London, and shares a swanky, yet tiny, modern flat with her boyfriend, Wesley Bridges.

My father is an Irishman to the core. The picture is black or white, there are no grey areas, and in life he has two things to worry about: if his family is well, and if they will go to heaven. Cabhan MacAwley is a man of few words, and even fewer emotional displays. My older sisters say that he was different when my mom was alive; he was freer, and much more expressive. While he will never admit it, he is one of the most sensitive men I've ever met; he just won't show it to anyone. My father is the rock of our family, and works to earn an honest living as an electrician.

I've been told that my mother was the light of my father's life. Daisy MacAwley was a free-spirited English rose, and rarely had a cruel word for anyone. She was loud, lively, quirky (I mean, come one, she named all of her daughters after flowers for Pete's sake) and free with her emotions, my father's polar opposite. They met during her first year of college, she was late for her philosophy lecture, and she had been running through a crowded intersection to try and make it to class. She hadn't looked both ways before she darted out into the street. Cabhan barely pulled her out of the way in time, the car she had ran out in front of wouldn't have been able to stop if he hadn't grabbed her when he did. She never did make it to that lecture. They married less than a year later, and Rose came into the picture a couple of years after that, Lily three after Rose. Mom passed away while giving birth to Fern and I two years after Lilly was born. The doctors say it was a mixture of a freak accident and her body's inability to cope with the emergency C section that saved her children's lives.

"VeeVee? Tha you?" My father's groggy voice sounded over the telephone into my ear.

"Hey Daddy, I just saw your message, sorry for calling so late. Class was killer today."

"Tha's alright, VeeVee. Ah don't care how late yah call, jus' so long as yah do." Dad's accent was always stronger when he was first waking up. " 'ows it goin out dere? Are yeh studyin hard?"

"Of course I am Dad; I'm looking over my notes from class right now." True to my word, there was several papers strewn across my futon, and I was meticulously shuffling through them, sorting them into piles: the more important subjects would be studied first after I got off the phone with my dad.

"Lily's picked de date fer de big day."

My hands stopped moving, and I focused all my attention on him.

"Did she? Hmm, what did her and Kyle decide on?"

"October de fourteenth. Says das deir lucky day." Dad scoffed.

"And how are you holding up?" I cautiously tried to feel out his mood.

"Vee, Ah'm givin away another of me daughters. 'Ow do yeh think Ah'm holdin' up?" I rolled my eyes, Dad was always sort of dramatic, but I couldn't really hold this one against him. My whole life, my dad had been all of our biggest supporter. He was there for every soccer game, science fair, and dance recital that any of his children were ever in. His whole life revolved around us. It was hard for him to let us loose in the world to spread our wings, even harder for him to give away any one of our hands in marriage. He won't ever say it out loud, but I have the feeling he thinks that we're all going to forget about him.

"Daddy, this is Lily's next step in the walk of life. Stop moping and be happy for her. I'm sure they'll visit you every time that they can."

"Das where yer wrong. It's not jus' me dey hav ta take into account. Ah'm sure Kyle will wanna see his folks when dey hav down time, hoo's ta say he won' make Lily forget all abou' her ole man?"

"Daddy." I scolded him. "You and I both know that that's not true. Kyle loves you just as much as he loves his parents, and I'm sure he would never willingly take away Lily's time with you while their back State side. You're being ridiculous and paranoid." His sigh was heavy.

"Ah know, Vee. Ah don' mean ta beh. It'z jus' 'ard fer meh. At leas' Ah still got you, Vee." He chuckled humorlessly.

"Dad, have you ever thought, well, I mean, have you ever considered dating again – "He cut me off.

"Vee, yah kno' 'ow Ah feel abou' dis. Yer mum-"I, in turn, cut him off.

"My mom would want you to be happy." I rubbed my hand across my forehead. "I'm not saying that you have to get married again, Dad. All I'm saying is you're lonely, you a companion. You don't even have to date her, for Christ's sake, you just need someone to be there while we can't. Just…think about, ok? For me, Daddy?" Although he couldn't see it, and the effort was really a waste, I was currently pouting like a fuckin' boss. He sighed heavily into the phone again.

"Ok, Vee. Ah'll tink abou' it. Bu' don' push meh on it." I could practically see the exasperated look on his face.

"Me? Push you on a subject that you're uncomfortable with? Psssh, I would never."

"Sarcasm can beh vereh unattractive in young ladies, Ivy Anne." I laughed at him. After staying on the phone for another 15 minutes or so, I lovingly told my father to stay safe and I'd talk to him later. Shaking my head at crazy old man of dad, I hunkered down to study for the rest of the night.


End file.
